


Furry Instigators

by Serade



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, Fluff, M/M, Neighbours, Painting, Romance, artist, businessman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serade/pseuds/Serade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laxus is sick and tired of his neighbour's cats. Every day, he has to catch one of the furry monsters and return it. Getting to know the man better, he finds out he is living next to an artist. Never was it planned that the cat lover would end up moving in with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Again

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt idea from:  
> http://tea-and-outer-space.tumblr.com/post/99399784683/aus  
> "you’re the crazy cat person next door and your cats keep on wandering into my yard au"

One black cat wiggled its way past the small round leaves. Finding a branch in the shrub, it arched its back extra high to enjoy the scratching sensation through its pelt as it passed on by. One elegantly placed paw before the other, it emerged from the boxwood hedge and a pair of orange eyes at once fixed on its small form.

“Not again”, Laxus sighed tiredly. He folded his newspaper back together and slammed it down on the wooden table hard enough to cause his saucer and coffee-cup to rattle.

The furry black being didn't seem to mind his irritation in the least, not even looking up at the sound coming from its left. But one ear tilted slightly in the general direction of the commotion. The cat happily strolled over his lawn, its tail up in the air to balance its slender soft steps.

For the past two months these damn beasts had annoyed him now, creeping into his garden and relieving themselves here or eating grass and then leaving disgusting wet hairballs in their wake. He was seriously starting to get sick of this.

One of his eyebrows twitched in irritation as the cat stopped and its golden eyes scoped over the area as though it owned this garden. It looked almost arrogant with its nose high in the air, that furry, annoying, little beast.

Taking a deep breath to calm down, Laxus got up from his chair. He stepped down from the wooden terrace and onto his well groomed lawn.

The little monster was as calm as ever, not minding his approach until he scooped it up. It looked up at the human holding it curiously for a moment before closing its eyes and giving a low purr. It seemed highly satisfied with itself.

Laxus huffed in annoyance. At least these things held still when you carried them. If they scratched, he would freaking kill them. Holding the cat with his arm slightly outstretched, he stomped around the house and over to his neighbour.

The house adjacent to his own was a fair bit smaller, only half as broad and merely having one floor, not counting the attic. After the properties in this area had been sold off, the one owning this one had divided it, building two houses and selling them separately to make more revenue. That's why the numbering was irregular for the rest of the street. Not that it really mattered.

He knew that there had been some people screaming about the terror of irregular numbers on _their precious street_ when the deal was authorised, but himself he really couldn't care less if there was a five or a four beside his front door. It had been very awkward to hear the enthusiasts complain about this with such passion when he moved in a little over five years ago. The neighbourhood association's little welcoming committee had been charming enough, but weird.

The small build everyone was so upset about was nice enough, if a little more old-fashioned than the rest of the street. Most had renovated façades and roofs in the past years. Some had laid out new stones or asphalt in driveways or renewed fencings. Overall, the homes on this street where very sleek and modern, but not this one.

The guy living here didn't even bother caring for his lawn properly or picking weeds in front of his house, dandelions and the occasional snowthistle peeking up among the grass that grew where others would plant flowers or bushes.

Ringing the doorbell, Laxus waited.

The dirty white door opened and Bickslow looked out. The man was about as tall as Laxus himself, but of a rather ordinary statue otherwise. There were many reasons Laxus hadn't been all to pleased with having this guy as neighbour, but the first time he had to return one of the mischievous cats, he had found out that the chaotic man living beside him actually was very handsome.

He looked like a rebellious type, his black and blue hairstyle more than unorthodox. A simplistic black figure was tattooed onto his face, its body going down the bridge of his nose and its arms raised over his eyebrows. The very regular clothes he always sported were an almost surprising contrast to it.

This guy was a very cheerful one, his tone of voice always happy and his lips seemingly stuck in a constant smile.

“Oh, hi”, he greeted casually, but the tension in his shoulders was obvious at once, a slight hint of worry hiding in his dark red eyes. He knew all too well what had happened. There was only one reason for the buff blonde to swing by. He was very fond of his freakishly perfect lawn and did not appreciate animals on his property in the least.

Picking the black cat form his neighbour's arms, Bickslow forced a wide smile onto his face and waited for the to the inevitable, angry snarl. “Your damn cat. _Again_.”

That man was really quite fearsome. When he was angry, he could growl almost like a dragon.

“Sorry. I really don't know what's gotten into them to start fleeing like that all the time”, the black and blue haired man apologised, almost bowing a little. He stoked through his cat's fur lightly. It really was odd. They had never been interested in going outside before. Was there some neat tom out there that lured?

“Maybe they need more space”, the blonde suggested. He was picking a few hairs off his sleeve with an irritated frown, then shaking them off his hand in disgust. Bickslow bit back an amused huff. That guy was so fine in his tailored shirt and thousand dollar haircut it was almost laughable.

It was something out of a soap opera. He was the mean neighbour that showed up from time to time solely for comic relief. Where did these kind of people come from? What did they do all day? Did they sit on their aseptic terraces and watch their perfect lawns grow while polishing the fine silver? Probably.

“I don't think that's the problem. I've had cats for years and this has never happened”, he said, shaking his head a little. “Maybe they like you”, he suggested cheerfully. The look on his neighbour's face made it clear he didn't find that the least bit funny. The air around him seemed almost scared to move as he warned, “Hold your fucking pets on your own fucking property.”

“Sorry”, Bickslow mumbled awkwardly and the gruff man turned on his expensive Oxfords heel, stomping away angrily.

The black and blue haired man made a face and closed the door before exhaling in relief. Why that guy even bothered talking to him for more than two seconds when returning his stray cats, he had no idea. It didn't seem like the blonde enjoyed their short angry interactions any more than he did.

“What a meanie, huh?”, he asked. Pappa meowed in his embrace, her golden eyes fixed on him now. She seemed happy enough. Cats sure had it easy, not having to deal with mean neighbours or odd neighbourhood associations. Those people really had too much time on their hands.

“What you find so interesting in his garden I will never understand”, Bickslow sighed, letting the cat down. “Or how the hell you manage to get out all the time for that matter”, he added thoughtfully.

Checking the entire house yet again, he still had no clue how the cats managed to slip out. None of his windows were open wide enough to allow a cat to pass through, he had no pet flap and as far as he knew there were no cat sized holes in his walls. It was almost like magic.

  


Laxus walked back to his spot on the terrace. Sighing, he picked his cup up only to realised its contents were now cold. Just fucking perfect. “Morning!”, a familiar voice called and he forced his irritation back, giving a smile as he turned to the lady living on the next street.

Their gardens meet in the middle of the housing block with only a hedge low enough to peek over separating them. The elder was a very kind and soft-spoken woman. She seemed like a person that had learned many lessons during her life.

“Good afternoon Milkovich”, he responded.

“Are you fighting with your neighbour again?”, the elder asked teasingly. “I'm not fighting with anyone. I just don't want his little monsters roaming around my garden and leaving their mess behind”, Laxus defended.

“That man is a chaos incarnated. I swear if he would pick weeds more often, I wouldn't have that crap in my garden as often either”, he added irritably. “Well, that young man has not had an easy upbringing”, the elder shrugged.

“He has lived in that house ever since he was fifteen years old, all on his own”, she gossiped. “On his own?”, the blonde repeated surprised and she nodded. “Apparently he was declared independent. There was some drama back then. I don't know the details, but it was decided in court that he would do better on his own.”

Laxus looked to the small house with a frown. That could explain a lot. That guy probably hadn't been raised to be half as picky as the rest here. It was very unusual, a man that young living in a house of his own without being the heir of some rich family, and in this area of all.

It must have been hard, living on your own in teenage years already. Laxus himself had moved out the day he turned eighteen, finding this house and settling here, but he couldn't imagine what it would have been like to be thrown into adult life several years too early.

When he was fifteen, he was playing soccer, roaming bars and getting laid, not doing laundry and cooking for himself. Then again, he still didn't cook, because whenever he did he only managed to create burned poison.

“There is always more to people than you can see on the outside”, Milkovich smiled knowingly. “I guess”, Laxus agreed. “Well, have a nice day”, he said politely before picking his things off the table and moving inside to get himself a new cup of coffee.  


	2. Locked out

Bickslow hurried to get home. The paper shopping bag clutched in his arms was threatening to rip any moment, completely soaked due to the rain. Had he known it would suddenly start pissing down he would have taken a plastic bag instead. He usually avoided that since it wasn't very eco-friendly.

Reaching his porch, he shifted the wet bag around to reach for his keys. He smirked triumphantly as he got a hold of them without having set the bag down. Just about to let himself in, he stopped as a noise caught his attention. Someone sneezed.

Taking a step back out into the rain, he spotted his neighbour standing outside in but a thin shirt. The gruff man had his arms crossed over his chest and a highly dissatisfied frown on his face. That seemed to be his standard facial expression, but this time Bickslow had a pretty good idea what had the blonde in a knot and it was for once not his cats.

The man was completely soaked and his usually perfectly groomed blond hair was hanging down over his forehead sadly. Snivelling and even shaking a little, he was obviously very cold. His place didn't even have the tiniest porch to seek shelter under either. Most didn't have one any more. It was apparently too old-fashioned.

Bickslow hovered a moment. He went back to his door and unlocked, dropping the wet bag inside before closing again. Taking a deep breath, he walked back onto the street and turned to the wet blonde. “Are you waiting for something?”

Laxus looked up in surprise. Spotting the black and blue haired man draped in a waterproof jacket, he sighed audibly. Great. His lovely neighbour was here to see his discomfort. “Yea, the locksmith”, he answered.

Bickslow repressed the urge to leave the irksome man out here on his own. The displeased sigh his neighbour gave was not exactly encouraging him to help out, but he was not about to let the blonde catch a cold. Everyone needed help sometimes, even scary looking people that had an awful personality. “Locked yourself out?”, he asked.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at that, like Bickslow had offended him somehow with the question. “No. I stand in the rain to freshen up”, he sneered sarcastically. The black and blue haired man couldn't help but laugh at that. Who would have known his constantly angry neighbour had a sense of humour? Smiling back at the deeply frowning man, he offered, “Would you maybe like to come in?”

Laxus hesitated for a second. He was not exactly comfortable with his neighbour and even less so with cats, but it was surely better than standing in the rain and waiting for who knows how long. It's not like he had many other options with both his house and car keys behind a locked door. “Thanks”, he nodded and walked over.

Following the black and blue haired man into his small home, Laxus was genuinely surprised how neat it was from the inside. Everything had a designated spot and all surfaces were perfectly clean. He took his shoes off and peeked around curiously. He didn't actually move from the doormat since he was dripping wet and didn't want to be a nuisance.

The layout was very different from his own house. The hallway was rather long and narrow, leading to what looked like the living room in the back. His own place was far more open and spacious. He had his living room right by the front door, the kitchen connected with a high open arch and a window front giving him a clear view over the garden. Here, all windows were rather small. It was more like his childhood home, old-fashioned.

He jerked as something moved beside him and looked down to find a red tabby cat among his feet. It met his eyes with its own brown ones before knocking its head against his leg and wandering between his legs.

“Aw, Pippi likes you”, Bickslow smiled. “Lovely”, Laxus said sarcastically. He moved his leg a little to shoo the thing away, but it merely gave a purr and stroked itself against him with its entire length, leaving lots of red hairs on his wet slacks.

The cat owner sniggered at the scene as he hung his jacket aside and stepped out of his boots. The shoes were very well used, rugged and old. The contrast between those boots as daily wear and his Oxfords as causal shoes when stepping outside for a moment was just one of many ways the difference between them made itself known. They were living but a few meters away from another, but they were still from seemingly completely different worlds.

“It's okay, just come on in”, Bickslow encouraged and he stepped out onto the wooden flooring. The black and blue haired man led him into a bathroom and picked a towel from the cabinets for him. “You can take a shower to warm up a little. I'll see if I have anything you can borrow for now”, he said, handing the towel over.

“Thank you”, Laxus said sincerely and was met by a smile. Would you look at that, the vexing blonde did know how to interact with another human without snarling and hissing. “No problem”, he waved it off and disappeared out of the room.

Laxus first called the locksmith to let them know where to find him once they arrived and then took the offer and peeled out of his wet clothes. He stepped into the tiny shower cubicle and warmed himself up with hot water. A hiss of delight left him as he felt the blood returning to his arms and legs.

Bickslow searched through his closet for something baggy. They were about the same height, but the blonde was way broader than him. He always wore rather loose fitting clothes, but he still doubted the buff man would fit in his regular attire.

Finding a pair of too large sweatpants and a very loose t-shirt, he walked back through the hall. Giving a small knock, he opened the door to the bathroom and laid the clothes down. “It's the best I could find. Hopefully it won't be too long before...”, he began.

He couldn't help the reflex to look up when Laxus stepped out of the shower, only the towel held before himself as he started to dry off unceremoniously. The man was an astonishing sight. Bickslow quickly averted his eyes and finished the sentence he had so awkwardly interrupted. “...the locksmith arrives.”

“Hopefully not”, the blonde agreed. He pulled the towel over his head and Bickslow quickly turned and left the room.

Holly...! Dreyar was not just well trained, he was a fucking Adonis.

Bickslow had always know that his neighbour was handsome. That perfection of a face marked with a mysterious lighting shaped scar going down the right side was hard to miss. But the rest of him was just as flawless. He wasn't usually one for super muscular guys, but this one was dashing. Shaking his head, he walked into the kitchen instead, starting to sort his shopping in.

When Laxus joined him, he was wearing the grey tracksuit bottoms and blue t-shirt. It wasn't half as baggy on him as it was on Bickslow. It was quite a good fit actually. Eyeing the blonde, Bickslow determined he looked way better in casual clothing than in an expensive shirt. He wasn't about to voice that thought, though. His neighbour might not appreciate comments on his wardrobe. He seemed very fond of it after all.

“Tea?”, Bickslow offered and the man gave a small nod. His orange eyes inspected the kitchen curiously and Bickslow teased, “Not half what you've got, is it?”

Laxus raised an eyebrow at his neighbour. Sure, it wasn't, but that wasn't why he was looking around. “It reminds me of my childhood home”, he admitted.

“Oh? Where did you grow up?”, the black and blue haired man asked curiously, setting the teapot onto the stove. He had never had a casual conversation with the other like this before. It was nice. The man had a very deep and calm voice. He could definitively see the two of them sitting down with some tea and just talk from time to time.

“In Magnolia Town. It's not very far from Hargeon, just an hour with the train”, Laxus told him. “What made you move down to the coast then?”, Bickslow wondered while he opened the cabinet to see what tea choices he had to offer. “Work”, the blonde answered absent-mindedly. Something had caught his attention.

He walked past the black and blue haired man and peeked through the next door. It was a small atelier. Paintings were leaning against the wall on one side, and in the other end of the room a table stood, all sorts of small buckets and tubes cluttering it. In a cup, a multitude of pencils stood and much of the area was covered with small dots of paint.

In the middle of the room stood two easels, supporting not yet done drawings. One canvas so far only had a few pencil lines, outlining what was to become a piece of art, while the other already had a few layers of paint, the latest just drying.

Laxus wasn't a huge art enthusiast, but he knew a little bit about painting. Many of the finer men and women he had to do with due to his work were art lovers. Especially oil paintings like these were always a hot topic. He could tell the man had skill. There wasn't much to see yet, but the technique was solid.

Looking over the done pieces lined up along the wall, Laxus could see what the artist was capable of creating with these tools. The nature drawings and surreal forms were absolutely stunning. Each little dot of colour seemed to have been placed with the entirety of the work in mind. “Did you painted these?”, he asked astounded.

Bickslow came to his side and smiled, “No, I just have crafts supplies lying around to make it look like I did in case someone visits.” Laxus smirked at the cocky retort. “Point taken”, he chuckled.

“You're amazing”, he complimented. Bickslow shrugged a little, not seeming as convinced of it himself. “If only the experts would agree with that”, he sighed. Before Laxus could ask about that, the doorbell rung.

“Probably for you. So much for tea”, the black and blue haired man smiled. “Right. Thanks for the help. I'll return you clothes tomorrow”, Laxus nodded. “No rush. It's not like I use them.”

Bickslow followed his guest into the hallway where the blonde discussed with the locksmith for a moment before biding him farewell, collecting his wet clothes, and leaving.

  



	3. Kinda Cute

Laxus was enjoying his afternoon on the terrace as per usual when, as always when he tried to relax, one of his neighbours damned beasts found its way into his garden.

Before taking action, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his boiling anger. Why did it have to be so fucking hard to get a moment's calm in your own fucking garden? Reopening his eyes, he saw that the feline had stopped in its tracks. This calico cat at least seemed aware that it was unwanted, that this was not its territory.

Just how many of these beasts did Bickslow have? There was the black one that kept annoying him, Pappa. Then there was that tabby cat Pippi and now this furry tricoloured monster.

After determining that the person staring back at her was not threat, the cat started eating from the soft grass. It almost lay down, chewing in a relaxed manner.

Laxus clenched his fist. No way in hell was he going to let this thing throw up on his lawn. That black monster always did this, nibbling on the grass and then leaving him a wet and disgusting present covered in hair and slime.

He stood up and the cat glanced over at him curiously. “Shoo”, he prompted and the furry beast started walking toward him. “No. Leave”, he hissed in annoyance, but the cat didn't seem to find him very intimidating.

It hopped up onto the wooden terrace and stroked itself against his leg, giving a small, “Meow.” The blonde's eyebrow twitched in irritation. “Get!”, he called, shooing the animal away with his foot, but to no avail. It just stood there, looking happy.

“Oh, for fucks sake”, Laxus growled. He picked the cat up and carried it around to the street and over to his neighbour. How many times had he returned these things now? Way too many for his mental health, that was damn sure.

He rung the doorbell twice, but no one opened for him. There was no light in any of the windows and Laxus let out a huff of air. Great, the cat-freak wasn't home yet.

Setting the cat down, he made to leave. As long as the devilish being stayed on that side of the bushes, he didn't care.

When he glanced back, the feline was already gone. Satisfied, he made for his terrace. Turning back to his own house, he saw that the tricoloured monster sat at his doorstep. How the hell did these furry, annoying little things move so fast? It was almost like teleportation.

It stretched and then set its claws against his door. “Oh hell no.” Grabbing the furry thing, he tugged it away from his door. A tiny scratch was already there now and he stared the beast down with anger flaring in his eyes.

“I swear I will give you beasts to the pet shelter next time”, he growled. “Meow”, the cat retorted happily. Getting enough of the ridiculous situation, Laxus walked inside and slammed the door shut. He walked through the house, collected his things from the terrace and retreated inside before the beast could annoy him further.

The fact that the cat was outside and he inside didn't help much when it started to rain again. It was sitting there, watching him through the large window front with large sad eyes. He tried his very best to ignore it, but a feeling of guilt kept nagging at him.

It was still April and he had experienced the cold spring rain himself just a few days ago. Bickslow had helped him out, let him inside to warm up and wait for the locksmith. Now that man's cat stood outside his door, looking sad and cold. He had little choice, now did he?

Sighing loudly, he got up and opened the balcony door. The calico cat looked back at him questioningly and he grumbled, “Come on in already.” Stepping aside a little, he let the feline in. It stroked itself against his leg happily and he rubbed a hand over his forehead in irritation. Why did it have to be something furry? Couldn't that guy keep turtles or something? Anything that didn't leave hairs in its wake would have been better.

The cat jumped onto his couch and he bit back the urge to throw it back out into the rain. He could clean up later. For now, he should return the curtsey that this cat's owner had show him. That reminded him. He had never returned the clothes he had borrowed. He had washed them and then forgotten about it as he had a lot of work to do the past week.

He put the clothes down by the door so he would remember them once he went over to return the cat and then sat back down on the couch. The feline slowly stalked over to him across the cushions. They barely gave wake to the small being, only tiny dents forming under its paws.

Once the cat reached him, it lay down beside him, happily pressing its head against his leg. Figuring there was no more harm to be done to his hair covered slacks, he ignored it and picked the newspaper back up.

The calm didn't last long as the cat began meowing. He looked down at the little beast. It just kept complaining, looking up at him like he ought to understand what it was saying. Again, he tried to ignore it, but the monster didn't stop, meowing tirelessly.

“What?”, Laxus finally hissed at it. “Meow”, it complained yet again and he sighed. How the hell was he supposed to know what this thing wanted? “Are you hungry or something?” “Meow”

“Oh for fucks sake. That tattoofaced bastard is going to get an earful, I swear it”, Laxus grumbled as he got up. He opened his refrigerator and looked over the options thoughtfully. What the hell did cats even eat? Fish, right?

He took out a can of tuna and set it down on the floor. That did seem to shut the being up at least. It happily walked up to the small can and grabbed a piece of fish with its teeth. It dragged it out onto the floor, to Laxus's dismay making a huge mess, and then began eating.

The blonde frowned down at the cat as it happily ripped the small fish into even smaller pieces before gobbling them down. Once satisfied, it sat back on its hind legs and began licking its paws, cleaning its pelt with care.

The little bastards were quite clean animals after all. Laxus crouched down a little and watched the cat, completely focused on its task, lapping over its paws and then bringing them up to clean its head. “You're actually kinda cute, aren't you?”, he mumbled.

Even as the rain finally eased outside, he let his tiny visitor stay. It wasn't really in the way after all, lying curled up in a small ball on his couch and purring lightly. The small closed eyes and light raising and lowering of its chest for every breath was almost a little calming. Animals were said to have a sixth sense for trouble and this little beast seemed perfectly content. That was surely a good sign.

He almost felt a little sorry for disturbing it when he noticed his neighbour had returned. Picking the cat up carefully and grabbing the clothes he still had to return, he walked over to the smaller house.

Bickslow still stood by the door as he reached the old-fashioned home. The artist took one look at Laxus and made a face. “Oh no. Peppe, not you too!” Accepting the cat, he apologised yet again, “I'm so sorry about that.”

Stroking over the cat's pelt, he noticed it wasn't wet and frowned a little. Himself, he was in his rain coat again. It had been raining heavily just a little while ago when he got onto the bus home. There was no shelter to be had outside Dreyar's house. He knew that for a fact.

He looked back at the blonde questioningly. No way in hell. Peppe must have sneaked out just now. That had to be it. The blonde would not in a million years allow one of his babies into his surely aseptic home.

Laxus saw the slight confusion and cleared his throat. He held the clothes out with a grumbled, “Your clothes. Thanks for that again.” Even if he had returned the favour now, he wasn't about to tell the other that. He would never live it down.

The artist accepted them with a smile, noticing the fresh scent lingering on them at once. It wasn't the way his own clothes smelled, this detergent reminding a little of lemon instead of his own choice of lavender. “You didn't need to wash them, you know. Thanks”, he said.

“Hm. Anyway. Have a nice day, or something”, the blonde shrugged before walking back toward his own house.

Bickslow was completely baffled now. Did his neighbour just say 'have a nice day'? What the hell had gotten into him? It almost seemed like a small gesture of kindness was all there was needed to gain his favour. Maybe he really was nice, somewhere deep down inside where it was well hidden from the world.

The old lady Milkovich at least seemed to be able to talk to the blonde from time to time. He had seen them from his kitchen window, exchanging a few words over the hedges when she was rummaging around her garden in a relaxed pace. She was a wise woman and could surely tell if someone was nice on the inside or not.

Chuckling a little, the artist closed the door and set Peppe down. “Where is it you slip out all the time, ha?”, he demanded. The cat just meowed happily and stalked into the living room. Cats really were almost like magicians, master escape artists that would never reveal their tricks.  


	4. As Did I

Laxus looked up as the bushes rattled ever so little. Just as expected, a cat had made its way past the boxwood. That really didn't come as surprise any more. For months, only the black cat Pappa had visited him, but the past few days the calico Peppe and even the red tabby Pippi had checked in uninvited, exploring his lawn.

This particular cat was new to him, though. Its pelt was white as snow, only its paws a little stained by brown earth and green grass. It was fluffier than the rest of them even, looking incredibly soft and warm. It was more hesitant too, only slowly treading over the low cut lawn, one paw placed before the other with care. It didn't strike him as an outdoor cat. What was it that lured them out here? Last time he checked, he didn't grow catnip.

Keeping its head low, the furry beast scoped the area with icy blue eyes. Spotting Laxus, it stopped dead, freezing in its current position, one paw still in the air. The blonde huffed a laugh. There was no way this fuzzy beast thought it could hide in plain sight, did it? With its bright colour, it stood out against the lawn like a black sheep in a herd of white.

Laxus got up and stalked over to it. “There sure are a bunch of you guys, huh?”, he commented. He didn't stride too fast, not wanting to scare the little being. When he came so close it was obvious he had spotted the cat, it gave up on its still pose and looked up at him warily.

The blonde reached out to pick the cat up and carry it back, but stopped before his hand had reached it. He had no bad intentions, but the cat didn't seem quite comfortable with the huge human in her proximity. It shied back a step, lowering itself further into the grass.

“No need to be afraid. I just don't want you on my lawn, so come on now”, Laxus tried calmly. When that didn't seem to impress the beast much, he crouched down to reduce his height. Holding his hand out, palm up, he tried to lure it to come closer on its own.

He wiggled his fingers a little and the cat fixed its concentration on them. One of its ears angled sideways to listen for something from the bushes, perhaps something far smaller moving about there that Laxus couldn't hear with his inferior human ears, but its blue eyes never once looked away from the moving hand.

Finally, it sneaked closer. Sniffing the tip of his fingers, it seemed to finally relax and stood up properly again. Knocking its head against the back of his hand, it wandered toward him, stroking its side against his arm and spreading hairs on his sleeves lavishly.

The cat really was incredibly soft. Its fur was thick, designed for cold winters. In snow, this little beast would surely disappear, camouflaged perfectly against the powdery white. The white hairs weren't quite was visible in single strands, but the cat was shedding. It was spring after all.

Looking to the spot where it had wiggled past the hedge, he could see entire tufts of white hair hanging from the low branches of the boxwood. “You have to be a real pain to have indoors”, he mumbled, petting the white being absent-mindedly.

  


Bickslow was just moving a box of winter jackets and thick warm boots onto the attic when he spotted a more than peculiar scene outside. His neighbour was crouching down near the hedge separating their properties, Poppo before him and happily stroking herself against his hand. The man was dragging his fingers through the thick pelt, giving the cat the scratching it yearned for now that it shed its winter pelt.

The artist frowned deeply. He had been convinced his neighbour hated cats, so pissed every time they tried to visit him. The blonde always picked away single hairs like they had offended his ancestors, yet now he was deliberately covering his hands and sleeves in them by cuddling with the fluffiest cat around. What was that about?

As the blonde shook most of the hair off again and picked the white cat up, Bickslow set the carton in a corner and climbed back down. Just as he set his feet onto the wooden flooring in the hall and pushed the attic ladder back up, the doorbell rung.

Opening, he accepted the white feline from his neighbour's arms. The blonde hadn't even carried her like she was a nuisance this time, instead holding her like a precious baby.

“I sure hope she didn't cause any trouble”, the artist said. The apology was a little half hearted this time around. In fact, it wasn't even really one, not after what he had just seen. “No. Not really”, Laxus admitted and he smiled a little.

As the blonde didn't leave, he arched an eyebrow in question. “So, uhm... how's your painting coming along?”, his neighbour wondered and he huffed a small laugh. “Wanna see it?”, he offered and as the other nodded, stepped aside to let him inside.

Setting Poppo down, he led the way along the hallway and into the small atelier he had made himself. It had been a second bedroom before, but he didn't have any use for a guest room, so he used it like this instead. In the middle stood the two current paintings in progress.

One depicted a large old mansion, all red brick and white cornices. It was rather pompous. In front of it was a lavish garden, rich colourful flora overgrowing in small flowerbeds. The clear blue sky above was an enthralling hue and the shading made it clear the sun was supposed to be behind the person looking at the picture.

The other drawing was of Bickslow's little house here in Hargeon. He had caught every detail of its design, even the small old carvings on the porch railing. The only notable difference to the original they were currently standing in was that this house was newly painted, clean and practically shining in the sun.

In the very front was a side walk that began in one painting and almost seamlessly continued into the other. On it walked five cats. One sleek black, one fluffy white, one red tabby, a calico that mixed brown, white and black, and one bicolour cat with elegant tuxedo pattern.

Golden, brown, blue and two pairs of green eyes were looking straight ahead, heads held high with pride as the painted cats strolled from one frame into the next, like it was only natural to jump between distant places with a single soft step.

“They're a set”, Bickslow pointed out the obvious.

Laxus drew his gaze from the drying canvases. “You said something about people not agreeing that your art is good?”, he asked. The artist shrugged a little, making a vague gesture. “Well, I am mostly told that my paintings are juvenile.”

“Bullshit. It's beautiful”, Laxus stated firmly and the black and blue haired man smiled widely. “Thanks.”

It had been a long time since someone complimented his paintings. He loved the craft. It gave him a space to vent, to be creative and express himself without the complication of words. To see what he had in his head come to life on the canvas was a true joy each and every time. It was never quite as the first vision, the painting developing during the process, but it was always strangely liberating.

And he knew his technique wasn't something to complain about. He had learned from one of the best back in the northern part of Hargeon. His caretaker had always said that he had an artistic soul, that he should develop his drawing skills and let it ripen into full fledged art. Every single day, he had carried his stuff over to the art academy after school. Every single day, he had immersed himself in his craft.

Only his themes and subjects didn't seem to be of the high society's taste. With these two paintings, he was feeling fairly confident. They weren't 'unimaginative' as his nature drawings had been called and they weren't too odd and 'nonsensical' as his more abstract work had been criticised to be.

Noticing a white ball of fluff on the elbow of the blonde's fine bespoke shirt, he laughed. When the blonde raised an eyebrow at him, he motioned to in and teased, “You've got something there.” Laxus twisted his arm around to see and the artist couldn't help but laugh louder.

Showing mercy, he picked the hair off, holding it up between index finger and thumb demonstratively with a wide smirk. “You cuddled with Poppo. Don't try to deny it. I caught you in the act. I saw you.”

Laxus huffed in annoyance. “So what?”, he defended and Bickslow chuckled again at his ridiculous neighbour's little pout. “I thought you hated cats”, he more asked than stated and the blonde shrugged a little. “As did I.”

“What made you change your mind?”, the artist wondered as he stalked into the kitchen to dispose of the white fur. “I don't know”, Laxus shrugged. He stayed in the doorway, not looking back at the other as he admitted, “They're... kinda cuddly, aren't they?”

That warmed Bickslow's heart. The buff blonde liked cuddly things. That was such an adorable contrast to his otherwise gruff demeanour. “Yea. That's why I love them so much. I gotta have someone to cuddle with, right?”, he joked, giving his neighbour a small wink.

Laxus just gave a small grumble in response. He could practically see the other's thoughts. 'Cute'. No. He wasn't. You could say a lot about Laxus Dreyar, but not that he was cute. Surely the artist would be clever enough not to voice it at least.

“Say. I've only met four cats. There were five on the paintings. What's with the tuxedo cat?”, he wondered. Anything to change subject. “That would be Puppu, my fifth baby. She is very shy. Whenever the door opens, she hides. Even if its me, she first comes out after about half an hour”, Bickslow explained.

Remembering the day Laxus first been standing here, finding shelter at his house, the artist suggested, “Tea? We never had it, did we?” “Sure”, the blonde nodded, stepping into the room.

While he usually enjoyed his evening with coffee and some reading rather than with tea, an artist and cats, he was content to spend the rest of the day in the old-fashioned home. The other seemed to be quite the tea and infusion enthusiast, having all kinds of herbs lying around in colourfully decorated metal boxes of varying sizes.

He knew a lot about their perks too. Sage and camomile were good to calm an upset stomach. Mint was refreshing. Rooibos, something Laxus had never even heard of before, was supposed to be good for the immune system. Everything had a use other than pure taste it seemed, as any food did if you analysed it thoroughly enough.

Laxus himself had never really learned any home remedies in his childhood. They quite fascinated him, some people able to cure lighter colds and other small illnesses or unpleasantries with herbs, hot towels and the right food alone, no medicine needed.

When the artist put out feed for his cats in the evening, four of them came running at once. The rattle of the food in the bowl was instantly followed by small feet scurrying over the wooden flooring. Only the fifth tiny family member was hesitating. From out of the bedroom peeked the bicolor cat, eyeing the suspicious blonde visitor for a long while.

First after a full ten minutes did hunger to win over hesitance and the cat slowly sneaked across the kitchen floor and to the blue ceramic blow. Once there, all fear was quickly forgotten until it was empty and Puppu fled back into the safety of the calmer room.

“Cute”, Laxus smiled. Bickslow smiled brightly as well, not as much at the cat as the fascinated blonde.

 


	5. A Request

Bickslow took a deep breath and rung the doorbell above the small silver plaque that read 'Dreyar'. His neighbour had stopped complaining about the cats, even petting them a little before carrying them back to him. It couldn't hurt to ask at least. Even knowing that, he was feeling just a tiny bit uneasy. Not that he was nervous. No, definitively not that.

Laxus opened the door with an air of surprise. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey. I have a tenzy tiny request. And it is totally okay if you say no”, Bickslow began, waving his hand in a vague gesture to underline just how absolutely fine it was if the other refused. Raising one eyebrow at his clearly nervous neighbour, Laxus sighed, “What?”

This was the part where the black and blue haired man asked him to do something bothersome and he had little choice but to help out. He could see it coming from miles away.

“I am going to Crocus for a venue this week, so I was wondering if...”, Bickslow tried, making another vague gesture toward the blonde while searching his vocabulary for a wording that would make the task sound tiny and convenient rather than a bother that he knew the blonde didn't want to hear about.

“You want me to look after your cats?”, Laxus asked before he found the right words. The tone of the blonde's voice made it crystal clear what he thought of the idea. He did not like it one bit. Petting a cat aside, he was still hardly a fan.

“I can find someone else if you don't want to”, the artist ensured almost apologetically. Of course this had been a lost cause. What had he imagined would happen? He was about to turn around when the other spoke again.

“Like whom?”

Laxus asked this with no little amount of suspicion. If the man came to him, the neighbour that everyone knew hated cats, there had to be damn good reason. The artist was very smart after all. “Someone”, Bickslow mumbled, giving a small shrug in avoidance. Laxus gave another deep sigh at that. It was obvious the other had no idea how to solve this on his own.

“Fine”, he growled and his neighbour's face lit up. He was relieved the blonde was so kind to help him even though he didn't like it. “Really?”

“Yea, dammit. I'll look after your little monsters, but they're not getting into my house. You'll have to give me the keys so I can check on them”, the blonde nodded. Even with the irritated expression on his face, he didn't really scare Bickslow any more. “Thank you so much”, the artist smiled brightly.

“Whatever. Just tell me what to do with them”, Laxus waved it off. He got his shoes and followed the black and blue haired man back to his house.

What a pain. Now he had to cat-sit. He would have to find some clothes that he wasn't fond of any more to dress in when coming over here to care for them. It didn't go past Bickslow that this entire ordeal annoyed the other, but he really did need the help.

When Pappa greeted them at the door and waved her tail in the scarred face as the blonde bowed down to take his shoes off, he had to force himself not to laugh. This cat was by far the most playful one. Even Laxus's mood seemed to brighten a little bit at the mischief. Stoking a hand over the black cat's back, the man stood back up straight and prompted, “Well?”

“You just have to feed them once a day. I always do it in the evening, around nine o'clock. There is food in the big blue bag in the kitchen. Two shovels is enough. And fresh water in the white bowl”, Bickslow told him, leading him into the mentioned room and pointing it out for him again.

Picking Pappa from the floor, he pressed his nose against the black fur. “This one is the only that needs a little extra care. She has an injury that needs to be tended”, he explained. Holding the cat's right front paw out, he made sure the blonde could see the cut going over one of the delicate small pads.

“How did that happen?”, Laxus wondered and he shook his head. “I'm not sure. Could have been during one of her adventures in the attic.” “The attic?”, the blonde questioned bewildered. “Yea. I don't know how she gets up there either.”

Holding the cat in his arms and looking down at it like this was an interrogation, he continued, “It's like cats have portals or magic or something. Little sneaky ninjas.” Laxus sniggered at that. “Pfff. Magic cat ninjas?”

The artist looked back at him with amusement. “What? Got a better suggestion for how they do that?” Laxus had to admit, he didn't have a better suggestion, for he had none at all. He shook his head a little and Bickslow triumphantly smirked, “See?”

Letting the black cat down again, he watched it wander off as he continued, “My caretaker always told me that cats are witty beings. She claimed they know whom to trust and whom not by just taking one look at them, so when a cat likes someone, you can trust them.” “Sounds a little naive”, Laxus commented and he chuckled. “Perhaps.”

“It was a nice thought, though, since cats liked me when no one else did. And it worked well enough in your case as well”, he grinned before starting to rummage in a cupboard. Laxus felt his cheeks head a little. This guy actually trusted him? As in, really trusted him? That was a first.

He was curious about the man's background. Whom hadn't like him? Why? But he wasn't about to ask. It wasn't any of his business and it was impolite to dig in other peoples past without their explicit invitation to do so. He sure wouldn't want his neighbour to go asking about his.

Bickslow turned back to him with a small tube of creme. “Its a mild disinfectant. Because she walks around on that paw all day long, it has to be cleaned so it doesn't get infected”, he explained, placing the medicine down in a cupboard demonstratively so his neighbour would be able to find it.

“Right. Anything else?”, Laxus asked, glad to change subject. “They are all very well behaved, but if you see one of them scratching furniture or something you can spray them with a little water to tell them off”, the artist told him.

Looking around himself thoughtfully, he added. “They usually sleep on the bed or couch, so its fine if they're there just as long as they don't walk around on the table or kitchen counters. And uhm.. the litter boxes are in the bathroom, so make sure you leave that door open.”

“When do they need to be cleaned?”, the blonde asked as he followed the other's gaze where it scanned the room for hints about anything he might have forgotten.

“They are not as finiky as some cats so you could leave it a day or two, but usually you wanna scoop them every day, just picking out the droppings. There's a small shovel there and bags. Just tie them and throw them out. I'll be back in time to change the litter on my own, so don't worry about that”, Bickslow told him.

The artist stood still in silence for a long moment, going over some sort of mental list. Finally, he nodded a little. “Jupp. Now I just have to take a few days off and I'm ready.”

That reminded Laxus, he knew quite little about his neighbour besides the fact that he was pretty, an artist, and loved cats. “What do you work with?”, he asked the black and blue haired man curiously. “I wait tables at the burger shop.”

“Oh”, was probably not the most charming reaction, but Laxus couldn't help himself. It was a surprise to say the least. Someone living in this quarter working at the fast food shop, it was unheard off. Maybe someone's son or daughter, still living at home and trying to make a few extra bucks during the afternoons, but not as full time job.

“Yea. Its not my dream job, but it will do”, Bickslow smiled. He didn't seem to take his neighbours surprise as offence at least. Laxus was well aware that he wasn't always the most tactful person. He had never learned that.

“Well, good luck with your venue”, he said and the artist nodded a little. Handing the blonde a set of spare keys, he followed the man back to the door.

“Thanks again for doing this.”

“Its fine. Its not like you have anyone else to do it, right?”, Laxus stated as he pulled his shoes back on. “Mm”, Bickslow hummed awkwardly. This guy could really work on his social skills a little.

Saying things like that without a second thought, he must have never know what its like to be on your own. But the artist was in no position to lecture him right now. The man wasn't wrong after all, he didn't have anyone else to ask. If he had, he would have asked them before his grumpy neighbour.

Thanking the blonde again, he bid him farewell and turned to the task of packing instead.

  



	6. Caring for Little Beasts

After work, Laxus headed over to his neighbours house. It was awfully quiet in the old home and for the first time he really noticed how the front door squeaked and the floor boards creaked under his heavy steps.

Closing the door behind himself, he was soon greeted by Pappa. The black cat stroked itself against his legs before he could even get out of his shoes. Good thing he had changed out of his bespoke trousers first. He was not eager to mix more cat hairs into his closet. The strands constantly turning up there since these beasts had started visiting him were annoying enough already.

“Hey there”, he greeted, petting over the sleek fur. “Meow”, Pappa responded happily, knocking her head against his hand as usual. She was a very friendly and lively cat. Each of the beasts had their little speciality. Puppu was the exact opposite of this one, very shy and hesitant instead.

Placing his shoes aside, Laxus stepped over the black feline and headed for the kitchen. Pouring out food and changing the water, he turned to the bathroom. After scooping the litter boxes and throwing the small bag out, he was just going to lock again and leave for the day.

As he grabbed the keys from the sideboard in the hallway, the shy bicolor cat was just stalking toward the kitchen and the filled blue bowl. Smiling, the blonde slowly followed it. Even as he tread lightly, the floor boards complained under his weight, but the beasts were preoccupied. Stopping just by the door, Laxus watched as they picked the small pellets out from the pile with full concentration.

When they were done eating and scurried off in different directions, he noticed the exentric black cat staying behind in the kitchen, licking its paw excessively. That's when he remembered. “Right. You're hurt.” Finding the ointment, he picked the cat up and carried it to the living room couch. Sitting down with it in his lap, he tried to get a look at the injured paw.

Pappa didn't seem to like the blonde visitor deciding over her in the least, trying to flee the scene, but Laxus wouldn't have it. He took a hold of the scruff of her neck. This much he remembered form biology. They had discussed why mother cats carry their kittens by the neck and how humans could use this when keeping felines at home. It might not have been his favourite subject, but he always paid attention when it came to school work.

The black cat stilled entirely, just looking up at him warily through its round golden eyes. “Don't worry. It won't hurt”, he murmured, unscrewing the cap from the small tube with his index finger and thumb. Letting the red cap drop onto the couch, he pressed a small amount of the white cream out of the tube and caught it with his fingers.

Reaching under the cat's paw, he applied the ointment carefully, rubbing small circles. As his finger massaged over the mid of the tiny paw, four small claws revealed themselves. They were all neatly clipped. Bickslow sure took good care of these little beasts. Even the fuzzy white monster's pelt was clean and untangled. That had to take a lot of time and effort. There was surely a brush covered in white hair somewhere. After letting Pappa escape and putting the medicine back, he went looking.

Sure enough, in the bathroom cabinet, a comb thickly covered in white hairs lay. Picking it up, he searched for the snowball. “Come here, Fuzzy Beast.”

Finding the white feline on the artist's bed, he heaved it up and took it into the living room as well, sitting down again to brush out any snarls. In contrast to her comrade, Poppo didn't complain at all. She happily settled in the blonde's lap, closing her eyes in bliss as he pampered her.

Soon, she lay flatly on her side, purring loudly as the brush stroked through her fur. He could feel the vibrations against his skin when he stroked over her warm, soft, side with his hand. Even when he was long done, he kept brushing through the white strands lightly, indulging in the calm that had settled around them.

Looking over the room at large, he noticed there was quite the collection of books here. Everything from fiction to university level mathematics was to be found. It made him wonder just whom he was living beside. Where did the man come form and where was he headed?

On the well organised shelves was one thing that stuck out, a picture that leaned against the books without having ever been framed. Lifting Poppo aside, he got up and curiously inspected it.

The picture was of a red brick house, large and old with thick vines creeping up the side. It looked much like the one that was in the back of Bickslow's painting, except less sunny and happy.

Picking the photograph up, he turned it to see if there was any explanation. The picture seemed to have been used as a postcard. The artist's address was written on it and a stamp sat in the corner. The message was short, neatly written by hand, and surrounded by a bunch of small smilies and pictures that looked to be drawn by children. Mostly, it were cats and faces with whiskers.

“ _We hope you have landed well._

_Greetings from all of us here at the Hargeon Orphanage.”_

That's what the paintings meant. The red brick mansion was his former home and this was his new one. His cats were his family and, as he had said, little magicians, able to appear and disappear at will, to jump between the two homes, the past and present, perhaps even the future.

Laxus put the photograph back. The artist had grown up an orphan and been declared independent at fifteen. How self-sustaining he must have been. Had he ever really been able to just be a child? He had probably never really been a teenager at least.

Had he ever sneaked out and gone to a party in the middle of the night? Ever gotten drunk at a kegger and tried to hide it from disproving adults? Or had he always been the perfectly organised guy he is today? Every book in the right spot and the bed done as if he were cleaning a hotel room?

Looking over the rest of the shelves, Laxus read a few of the book spines.

'Linear Algebra', 'Calculus', 'Mathematics Handbook', 'Data Structures' and 'Logic and Algorithms'. But there were only mathematics books on this advanced level, no other typically compulsory subjects. Orphans couldn't usually afford college and Bickslow was a little younger than him so if he had gone to college, he shouldn't be done yet.

In the other end of the bookshelf fiction was lined up beside two or three books about caring for cats. 'Lord of the Flies', 'Edge of Destiny' and 'The City of Dreaming Books' and many other titles stood here, from classic to modern.

Bickslow seemed to be a very interesting character. What a person read and watched said a lot about them and his neighbour seemed to be a very smart guy that was interested in maths, fantasy, magical worlds and grand adventures. And cats.

Picking a book down, the blonde sat back down and opened it. Surely the artist wouldn't mind if he took the freedom to enjoy a little. Its not like he caused any extra trouble with it and he had often heard that Walter Moer's books were a treat. Too bad the artist didn't have the foreign originals. He had probably never studied the language.

Instead of his own reading, he came back to the book every day he was cat-sitting, making himself a little tea and cuddling down on the couch of the old-fashioned home. It was like back in his childhood when he sat in the star parlour of his grandfathers mansion. Maybe he really ought to visit again some time.

When the enthusiastic snacking from the kitchen stopped, he looked up to see the a tuxedo patterned cat scurry back into hiding.

Bickslow was supposed to come back tomorrow, so he wanted to finish the book he had in hand before leaving today. He didn't mind if it got a little late. There was no work for him the next few days.

Sinking into the pages, he first looked up again as a slight movement disturbed him. Puppu was slowly stalking toward him on the backrest. Reaching him, the feline cuddled down, tucking its paws under its body and closing its eyes. It seemed to trust him after all. Smiling a little, he turned back to the text.

When he looked up again near the end of his reading, the sun had already set. Peppe had rolled up against his side, was warm against his leg. Dropping one hand from the book, he mindlessly drew his fingers through her pelt and soon a calm purr accompanied the enchanting story.

  



	7. Welcome Home

Laxus looked up at the sound of keys. Getting up from the kitchen table where he had allowed himself another cup of tea while the little monsters ate, he stalked into the hallway to see the artist letting himself in.

He had figured he might as well wait here and hand the keys back to his neighbour today. That way he wouldn't have to think more of this entire ordeal tomorrow and could refocus. He hated having all these tiny things to remember. It was his worst pet peeve, always had been.

Bickslow dropped a heavy backpack and what looked like two protectively packaged paintings before looking up to spot the blond man.

Laxus's expression fell in worry as he met the artist's wary eyes. “Are you aright?”, he wondered. Had the trip been hard? The other seemed completely drained. “Sure”, Bickslow mumbled. He averted his face and started taking his jacket off. Crouching down and untying his shoes, he added, “Thanks for taking care of the cats.”

There was definitively something wrong with the tone of his voice. He was usually so cheerful and glad, his smiles as bright as the sun itself, but now he sounded so hurt. “Did something happen?”, Laxus tried and the artist shook his head, “Nothing at all.”

“Bickslow, if...”, Laxus began worriedly, but the man turned to him and interrupted with a forced smile, “Thanks for coming over and all, but I can take care of the rest on my own.” He was really trying to get rid of his neighbour now, but Laxus did not want to leave the artist in this state. He had never seen the man so downcast.

“I took the liberty to have some tea, so at least let me clean up after myself”, he said, pointing over his shoulder into the kitchen. “You don't need to”, Bickslow said, but he shook his head, “I insist.” If at all possible, Bickslow's shoulders sunk even further as he realised the other wouldn't leave him alone right now.

The blonde turned back to the kitchen and swung back the last of his drink before getting to washing the cup and setting it upside down on the drying rack. The entire time, he listened sharp for what Bickslow might be up to. Whatever bothered the man, it wasn't just a strenuous trip. Something was wrong.

Having heard the distinct creak of a door, he decided to go look for the worn man. Finding Bickslow in his bedroom, sitting on the bed and looking out at the sinking sun, he hesitated. Maybe giving back the keys could start a conversation?

Giving a soft knock on the open door, he caused the artist to jump. The black and blue haired man cleared his throat before wondering, “What?” He was trying to mask the fact he was close to tears. Laxus could hear it in his voice, clear as day.

“Your keys”, he stated and the artist nodded a little. “Just drop them on the cabinet by the door.”

Laxus again hesitated. He could just leave, drop the keys and go. The artist clearly didn't want him to get involved. The man just wanted to be on his own right now to deal with whatever it was he was going through. It clearly had nothing to do with the blonde and he was overstepping by getting involved. Yet he couldn't bring himself to turn his back to the glum artist.

“Its obvious that something happened”, he said instead, taking a step into the room. “Just go. I will be fine. Its not like this is the first time this happens”, Bickslow told him solemnly.

Now he could definitively not leave. “That what happens?”, he asked, but all that met him was an uncomfortable silence.

Walking around the bed, he saw that those dark red eyes truly were watery. “That what happens?”, he insisted now. He knew he was being intrusive and rude, but he didn't care. He wouldn't stop until he knew what the matter was, not now. The other seemed to realise this as well and it angered him.

“If you have to fucking know, my paintings didn't meet the mark, okay?”, Bickslow snapped, finally turning to face him. “Well, I like them”, Laxus defended. “Great. But that doesn't help me”, the artist told him in a snarl. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Sorry but please, just... leave me.”

“No”, Laxus refused. True anger shone in the red eyes now. He was not just stepping over the line, he was taking a bulldozer along, and he knew it. And he still didn't care.

“I don't care what kind of 'experts' are evaluating your paintings, but they're idiots. They don't understand them. Because they don't know”, he stated matter of factly and the artist shook his head in disbelief. “Don't know what?”, he asked, bewildered and irritated at his neighbours complete lack of respect.

“You. Your babies. They have no idea how well you captured them. They don't know what... what those paintings mean”, the blonde said in exasperation, first realising as he quieted again that he had flung his arm out in the general direction of the front door where the paintings now stood leaning against the wall.

“And how would you know?”, Bickslow asked back. No one knew him. Just because this guy was his neighbour didn't mean the blonde knew anything about him. He was on his own. He had always been on his own.

“I know that the building in the back is your old orphanage. It is on a photograph you have in your bookshelf. I know that these five monsters are actually very cuddly and I know that there is something mysterious about them, as there probably is with all cats, suddenly vanishing and turning up again at will. I think that is what you tried to capture, your dreams, your past and future, your family, which are these five, these little magicians.”

Tears rand down the artist's face and Laxus tensed. He was no good with crying people, no good at all. Awkwardly sitting down beside the black and blue haired man, he put an arm around him. Bickslow buried his face against the simple white shirt and he stroked down the man's back.

This venue had meant a lot to the artist, hadn't it?

The cats seemed to catch on to what was going on as well, crowding at the door into his bedroom, eyeing the two of them worriedly. Just as the artist had said, for the better or the worse, they were very clever animals.

First when Bickslow had caught himself and was wiping his tears away did the blonde dare to inquire, “Why is it so important what others think?” “That's not it”, Bickslow said, shaking his head. He took a deep breath to steady his voice before explaining.

“I can't keep this house. Things happened in my youth and... well, its enough to say that I got a restitution that got me over until now. I had hoped to have a job that paid well enough to keep this place by now, but no, my bills are stacking. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. I was going to study and get a proper job, but that didn't work out. I suck at everything but maths. That's not good enough. This was the last chance.

Most apartments don't allow cats. Besides, if I go to social services, they are bound to tell me to stop having so many pets, to take a small place where I can't hold them in order to save money. I can't just abandon them. They're my family. They make exceptions for children, not for animals. I know that already.”

Laxus felt for the artist. Of course he didn't want to leave his family behind. They were important to him. If anyone could understand that, it was Laxus. He placed a hand under the man's chin to force him look up. “It's gonna be fine”, he encouraged and the black and blue haired man shook his head again. How could it be?

“You know... they are kinda cute and... I do have a spare room or two over in my place”, Laxus said. “You'd take them in?”, Bickslow asked in surprise and he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he realised that he had not gotten the intended message across. “I'm not just talking about them, Stupid”, he hissed. The black and blue haired man blinked at him blankly. “What?”

“I'm saying, you are free to stay at mine for the time being, so don't worry about your little balls of fur or any social services”, Laxus finally spelled it out. “I can't accept that”, Bickslow waved it off in shock.

Of course the artist wouldn't just thank and accept. He had his pride and didn't want handouts. So Laxus took initiative instead.

“One more word and I swear I will defenestrate your cats. Just accept it and shut up”, he hissed. “But”, the complaint began, but he cut the man off at once, “Shush.” Bickslow just looked back at him, still trying to process what had just happened.

“What the hell do they even pay you if you can't cover your bills? This area isn't that expensive to live in once you have the estate”, the blonde asked, partially because he wanted to know the answer and partially to change subject. “Around forty thousand jewels a month”

Laxus raised an eyebrow at that. Realising the artist was serious, he exclaimed, “That is insane. That's practically nothing!” “It's plus tips”, Bickslow shrugged and he had to actually stand up to vent his irritation. “And who the hell tips in a fast food restaurant? Honestly, why do you even bother with that place?”

Finally, a small smile sneaked onto the tattooed face. “Some do tip. Not much, but still. I just can't find anything else”, he explained in an effort to calm his neighbour again. “Whatever. Just, calm down and when shit hits the fan, you pack and move over”, Laxus stated. “Clear?”, he asked sternly before the artist could argue with him again.

Looking up at the man towering over his bed with his arms crossed over his chest in a grim stare, Bickslow nodded a little. “I will never be able to thank you.” “I don't need your thanks”, Laxus muttered.

He had better stock up on lint rollers.

 

 


	8. Quit!

It was sadly not much later that Laxus had to make good on his promise and help the artist move. His home was put up for auction by the bank because he couldn't pay his dues any more and he was asked to vacate within the month.

Together, they carried the man's belongings the few steps down the street to the blonde's house. Up the stairs and to the right, he gave his neighbour the two empty rooms. One was a guest room. The other, he had made one into an office, but he never used it, preferring to take the drive and head in instead if something came up. Keeping work and private separated physically made it easier to do so mentally.

Now Bickslow could make himself at home here. A bedroom, a bathroom and an atelier. It would hopefully do until the man could get back on his feet.

And Laxus had bought a whole box of lint rollers in preparation for the attack of the five beasts. He would have one in the closet, one in the living room, one by the door and one in the car. That ought to do the trick. Just as long as he didn't show up to work covered in cat hairs.

Bickslow stood awkwardly in the door as he dropped the last box of clothes. He had never even stayed a night in a house this new and modern. It was almost a little intimidating. He felt like he was bound to break something expensive around here.

“Aright?”

He turned around to see Laxus with the set of spare keys in hand that he had been looking for. “Yea. It's just... a little odd I guess”, the artist nodded. “And I still don't know how to express my gratitude”, he added. “Its simple, really”, Laxus stated. He came up to his neighbour and handed the keys over. “Just don't.”

“I don't accept that. But I will delay it to a later point when I have figured it out”, Bickslow chuckled. “Let free your monsters already”, the blonde sighed and he laughed aloud. Crouching down, he opened the five small carriers and let the five felines explore their new home. While the humans moved boxes and left the doors open, they had been forced to wait, but now it was time, and even Puppu excitedly investigated the large unknown rooms.

After settling in the two rooms he had so generously been given, Bickslow went to bed. All five cats joined him, cuddling down on the large double bed. It really soothed in this sudden change. He felt less alone when they came to him, rolling up against his side. In this huge new room, it felt like the last little piece of home.

Come morning, he found his neighbour in the kitchen. The blonde was sitting by the table, coffee and a sandwich before him and the newspaper in hand. What had the artist stop in the door was the fact that the man was sitting there topless.

He had shortly spotted his neighbour when stepping out of the shower once, but now he had a clear view of the man's physique. He had known that the blonde had broad shoulders and a strong build, but the perfect balance between muscular and lean was astounding. And he wouldn't ever have thought this stiff looking guy would have a tattoo. Down over the right side of his chest swirled a tribal, ending just where abs that looked to be chiselled into his upper body started.

When the orange eyes left the text and found him instead, he forced himself to walk on into the room as not to seem too awkward. “Good morning”, he greeted and Laxus gave a small nod, turning his attention back to his reading.

Feeling just a little tense, Bickslow got himself some cereal and sat down as well. The brand the other bought was one he hadn't tried before, for it was way too expensive. The generous amount of berries in it justified the price, but still, his own choice cost half as much. It wasn't long before the blonde noticed the unease in the air and looked up again. “What?”

“What?”, the artist returned the question and Laxus raised an eyebrow in question. “You're nervous”, he stated. “Used to lonely mornings”, Bickslow lied. He couldn't tell the blonde that the reason he was agitated was that the other sat topless, flaunting that ridiculously perfect body of his. While his neighbour didn't seem to quite buy the excuse, he at least dropped the subject.

Finished with breakfast, Bickslow got up, put the bowl and spoon into the dishwasher, and made for the front door. That had Laxus set his paper aside. “Where are you headed?”, he asked in surprise. Bickslow chuckled at that. Wasn't it obvious? “To work.”

“You have got to be kidding me”, the blonde sighed almost irritably and Bickslow gave the man an odd look. “Quit”, Laxus demanded and his frown only deepened. “Why would I do that?”

Laxus stood and walked over to him, placing his hands on his hips. “They don't pay you the money it is worth to get up in the morning. You might as well be unemployed and have the same amount in your pocket.”

Bickslow knew he shouldn't let himself get side tracked that easily, but his eyes followed the swirling tattoo with interest as he tried to focus on what the other said. “When you quit a job you don't even get unemployment assistance for a while, because it was your own fault. Besides, it may not be a good job, but it is at least something”, he mumbled.

The way the casual black tracksuit bottoms sat on the blonde's hips was alluring to say the least, a perfect fit. The slender blond treasure trail disappeared under the waist line, but the rest of him wasn't too hairy either, all very well groomed.

“It isn't shit. Don't let them exploit you like this. Quit this rip off job and find something else”, Laxus insisted, crossing his arms over his chest instead. Bickslow looked up at that. Misreading it as confusion, the blonde continued, “I get that you had little choice before, but as of right now, living under this roof, you do. So quit.”

“Then what do I do all day long?”, Bickslow asked and he shrugged. “Fuck do I know? Paint or something. You wanted to live off that, no?”

The artist looked past him into the room to avoid his eyes. Sure he wanted to, but... “I might never get any actual revenue from it.” There was no guarantee he would ever succeed with this kind of career and for the past years there hadn't seemed to be any notable improvement to his painting, each work getting the same critique. That's why he had aimed to study and get a proper job. Not even that worked out.

“So you're giving up? Is that it?” He looked back at the blonde, defending, “That's not what I'm saying.”

“Then walk into your bosses office, tell him to shove his below minimum wage salary up his aristocratic ass and paint”, Laxus almost growled. He was leaning in toward the other now and Bickslow had to take a step back. His neighbour was a surprisingly caring man, but he was way too intense sometimes.

“If you want, I will even write it down on paper that you have my financial support for three months. That's the time it would take until you'd get assistance again, right?”, Laxus continued his rambling and the artist raised his hands defensively, waving it off, “You really don't need to do that.”

He didn't want to be anyone’s charity case. That was a highly uncomfortable thought. The blonde did have a point, though. If he truly wanted to pursue is dream of living as full time artist, he would have to take a gamble and focus on his painting.

“Fine. I will quit. But I won't be quite that crude about it. Think of the comment he would give if I have to use him as reference in a future job-hunt”, he sighed.

Even with this opportunity to paint freely, he doubted it would make much of a difference. With the constant adversities, he was starting to loose his confidence. He knew his technique was great, but he was starting to believe that he didn't have the creativity required to bring to life any real art. He would need to find a new job again sooner or later.

“I'd say you at least had guts, but I wouldn't pay you that little to begin with either”, Laxus joked and he huffed a laugh. “Right. I guess it comes in handy now that there is no kind of employment security and as 'compensation' thus also no period of notice.”

“What a fucking joke. There is no way that's legal”, Laxus hissed irritably. “It is. I checked”, Bickslow ensured him and the blonde turned back to his sandwich in aggravation. “That is ridiculous.”

“That's a free market”, the artist smiled. He had to hold back as not to chuckle at the other's cute reaction. His neighbour really was quite easily annoyed. He wouldn't survive one day at a workplace like the burger shack. What a nice past he must have had to not even know what kind of shitty employment agreements there were out there.

“Fuck the free market. That's fucked up, plain and simple”, Laxus stated firmly and he just gave a small nod. It seems there was little point in arguing with his neighbour.

Turning back to the front door, he excused himself as he pulled his shoes on. “See you later.” “Yea, later”, Laxus grumbled, sitting back down at the table stiffly.

He just couldn't understand why the other was okay with this kind of bullshit contract.

 


	9. An Opportunity

Laxus quickly got used to his new room mates. The cats were not as big of a hassle as he would have imagined and any hairs could quickly be removed from his suit before he sat down in the car to go to work. His neighbour wasn't one to make a raucous and he could swear his kitchen was now better organised than before.

Especially the home cooked meals made up for any inconvenience. Even when he still lived with his grandfather, they only rarely ate at home. It was incredibly cosy to do so and he more often than not caught himself watching the artist as he chopped greens, fried meat and caused a mouthwatering smell to spread through the modern home.

Bickslow looked relaxed when he prepared the food, knowing exactly what he should be doing without needing a recipe book. And it was delicious. The artist's face brightened up every time he complimented the various meals and he happily experimented with ingredients that he had avoided before due to their price tag.

It was like they had become a small family. Bickslow was playing stay at home husband, the cats were the babies and Laxus was going to work every day to provide for them. The artist even bothered getting up in the mornings to make him breakfast and sometimes lunch boxes. At work everyone seemed convinced he had gotten himself a girlfriend.

Bickslow never told him that one of the main reasons he got up so early was to see the blonde sitting topless by the breakfast table. Or that the reason he enjoyed cooking so much all of a sudden was the joy in those orange eyes, the pleased hums and kind compliments. He had never had that before.

When Laxus got back from work and pulled into the driveway again, he saw that Pappa had slipped outside once more. Sighing, he parked the car in the garage and went after the black feline. Just as he was about to get a hold of her, she ran away, forcing him to hunt her around the house and into the garden.

When he reached the terrace, the cat had somehow managed to slip back inside. Looking at him through the glass front innocently, the little beast licked its right front paw again. Laxus made to open the door to the terrace only to realise it was locked. How the hell did these little magicians do that?

Giving an irritated huff, he went for the front door instead and found the furry monster sitting in the living room, gnawing on the paw irritably. Surely it had gotten dirt in its wound again, playing around outside like that. He made to pick the cat up, but it again avoided his grasp.

He had to chase her through the kitchen and up the stairs to finally get a hold of her. Once the black feline was secured, Laxus looked up to realise he had ended up right in front of the guest room that his neighbour now stayed in.

Bickslow had just left the shower, only a towel wrapped around his hips. He was pretty, slender, but not tawny looking. His baggy clothing never really gave that away. Laxus had only gotten to see the man's charming tattooed face before now. Noticing a hint of red spreading over the artist’s cheek's, he held back a chuckle. Was the black and blue haired man embarrassed? How adorable.

He wanted to tease his neighbour a bit so he could stand here and enjoy the view just a little longer. “You know, the other four are very calm, but this one is like Loki incarnated”, he joked, motioning to the cat in his arms.

“Loki?”, Bickslow asked bewildered. He wasn't really following, feeling a little uneasy now that this ridiculously handsome guy stood there in expensive suit and gold watch while he was draped in no more than a towel, one of the blond man's towels.

“You know, the Norse god”, Laxus said in amusement. “Uh, yea. What did Pappa do?”, the artist asked as he darted behind the open door of the closet. The blonde bit together as not to laugh. “Nothing important. She was outside again. I'll check on her paw.”

Walking downstairs, he made sure to clean the sensitive paw before disinfecting it yet again. “You need to stop going outside if you want this to heal out, you know”, he mumbled as he felt over the soft little pads again.

He let the feline free as Bickslow came down the stairs, now dressed in his usual baggy trousers and t-shirt again. Laxus thought he'd look even better in some tighter fitting clothes, but he wasn't about to comment on the artist's choice of clothing. That would be rude, even for his standards.

“You've got some hairs on your suit”, the black and blue haired man pointed out. Picking a lint roller up, he helped the blonde get rid of them. Laxus had made it clear the work clothes were important to keep professionally clean. Rolling the white rubber silicone over the black fabric, he used the opportunity to feel over the blonde's upper arms and back a little.

“Say, what is it you even work with?”, he wondered. Laxus always left for work in such fine attire. And he was clearly earning a lot. “I manufacture cars”, the blonde answered, turning around to let his neighbour remove the hairs stuck the rest of his clothes.

“So you're an engineer?”, Bickslow asked in surprise. That didn't sound like a job with a strict suits only dress code. “Not exactly. I own the company”, Laxus explained and he looked back at the blonde baffled. “Woah. I never knew.” Laxus shrugged a little and took his jacket off, checking if he was clean enough to put the clothes aside and get changed.

That's when a light went for the artist. He facepalmed himself. “Of course. Dreyar. Damn. How the hell did I miss that? I mean, I'm not a car enthusiast or anything, but damn, I am slow.” He was feeling a little stupid now. Dreyar was literally the name of the brand. Every single car had it written on the front as well as back. These cars were known all around the world and he had been living beside the owner of the company for years without connecting the dots.

Surely the blonde drove one himself. He hadn't ever paid any closer attention to the fine black car. On the front and back there was surely a silvery writing starting with the letter D. “Those are expensive!”, he said shocked. Even with a house as nice as this, a car like that was more what you'd expect in the garage of some huge mansion by the sea.

“Yea, they are a bit pricey”, Laxus said absent-mindedly. “A bit?”, the artist asked in disbelief and he smirked. “For little artists like you, I guess exorbitant is more fitting.” Bickslow huffed a laugh at that. “Tease me Baby”, he hissed and the blonde smiled brightly.

He had spent quite some time with the five felines when he took care of them for a week, but it was first now that he truly got to know their owner. Once comfortable, the artist was every bit as sassy as he looked.

Laxus had always been told he was hard to amuse, but this guy was surprisingly fun to be around. He didn't mind sharing his home with the man in the least.

“Speaking of work”, he began. “I was invited to a venue by a client today. I'm not really interested, but I figured you might enjoy going to it.” “Depends on what kind of venue it is”, Bickslow said, clearly intrigued.

“It is a mix from a few collections. My client happens to be a huge art fan and has about two thousand pieces in possession”, the blonde told him. He smirked, “We could hang out a few of your paintings there.”

“Mine? Really?”, Bickslow asked astounded and he nodded. “Sure. I could easily get a few spots reserved for pieces I favour. It is a private event after all. That way you can pass by those stupid 'experts'. People will see the value of your work.”

The artist bit his lower lip, hesitating. His eyes were downcast. Even the latest pieces that he was so sure would meet the requirements hadn't made it past a jury. He wasn't sure they had been wrong. Weren't cats and magic a little too immature?

“I don't know. If they think its too simple and childish to show, won't others agree?”, he finally sighed, but Laxus shook his head. “I don't think so.”

Turning around and walking towards the stairs, the blonde determined, “It's a done deal. Pick five paintings to show off next Saturday. We wouldn't want to turn up empty handed, now would we?”

“Oh, and we will have to meet with my tailor so you have an adequate suit to show up in”, he added as he was far enough up the stairs to be able to pretend he didn't hear the black and blue haired man's protest.

 


	10. The Venue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, I see jewels as having about the same worth as yen.

Bickslow took a deep breath as he walked after Laxus into the gallery. It was crammed with people, all dressed in finest cloth and decorated with jewellery expensive enough to buy a house from. Himself, he felt a little odd in the bespoken black suit Laxus had forced him to the tailor for.

The blonde was of course in an attire that was eye catching even among these fine people. Especially the pompous golden watch was a sign of his ridiculous wealth and high standing in the world of business.

Taking two drinks from one of the bypassing waiters, he handed a champagne glass to the artist and nodded his head to motion the black and blue haired man to follow suit as he headed for the crowd. Bickslow walked after the businessman, making sure to stick close.

He had never been at any event quite like this. The five paintings had been picked up at the blonde's house two days earlier. He had picked the two latest works, an older painting of the fluffy white Poppo sitting among a field of bluebells and two works that were more abstract.

Truth be told, he was dead nervous for any comments on them. Had the gallery been bigger, they would surely not have gotten any attention, but as it was, someone was bound to notice the out of place cat paintings.

Reaching the gathering in the middle of the entrance hall, Laxus was recognised at once and greeted with great enthusiasm. “I want you all to meet Bickslow. He is an incredibly skilled artist”, the blonde introduced his company and Bickslow found himself shaking hands with a whole bunch of people whose names he would forget again momentarily.

Among them were at least a few automobile related businessmen and women and a few big time art collectors that were here to search for potential new pieces for their personal hoard while showing off a few exquisite items they prided themselves to have in possession.

Laxus was really good at this entire small talk and flat socialising thing. He fit in perfectly with the fine men and women, knowing exactly whom to greet how and which one's wife loved compliments and which ones didn't appreciate anything that could be interpreted as flirting in the least.

The smile now decorating his face was something Bickslow had never seen before. It was soft, incredibly confident and most of all, completely and utterly fake. It was a mask he had put on the second they stepped through those wide glass doors, one that fit him perfectly.

Even his tone of voice was different, slyer, like he knew exactly that he was the most important person in this room and that every single one of the guests present would want to impress him in whatever way possible. He was on top of the world.

When the introductions were through and Bickslow was ignored again, he sneaked away and set his glass down on a table in favour of exploring the venue. The art on display really was astonishing. It felt odd that his own paintings were hanging among some of these masterpieces.

Looking over the different collections, he finally found the corner where his five paintings were on display. To his great surprise, the two paintings of his orphanage and old house had a little crowd before them. Walking closer, he listened in to the discussion at hand.

None were quite sure what the paintings were about. He had named them 'home', but that merely seemed to add to the confusion. Which of the houses was the home? Was it the home of the five cats or their owner's? What was the deal with the street they walked along? And why was there a second house? What did it mean?

“Actually”, he interrupted carefully.

“The red mansion to the left is The Hargeon Orphanage and the house to the right is... was my home just recently. The five cats are mine. They are my family and have travelled with me along the road of life. They have the special ability to magically disappear whenever they please, to find their way in and out of places we'd consider locked up. It is a little like magic”, he explained.

All eyes were on him now and he smiled awkwardly. Had that been foolish? Probably.

“You have to be the artist. Bickslow, right?”, one man asked and he nodded a little. “These pieces are astounding. They are incredibly well painted. You must have studied art for a long time”, the man complimented happily and Bickslow could swear he was blushing a little. “Well, yea”, he mumbled, shaking hands with the black haired collector.

“I for one believe that art is at least to half the story that accompanies it and these are not just skilfully made, but your story to them is very beautiful. I would love to buy 'home' from you. A million seems fair, no?”, the man continued and Bickslow gaped back at him. “A million?”, he repeated in disbelief. It was more than twice what he would have earned in an entire year waiting tables.

“Trying to buy an original piece from a young and inexperienced artist for nickels, are we?”

Turning around, he was surprised to find Laxus interfering with the sale. The businessman looked at the black haired collector with a certain familiarity. It seemed he knew most of the people that were here today. “I resent the implication”, the art collector joked and Laxus smiled confidently, “It merely shows a clever mind.”

“I will have to disappoint you, though. This piece hangs in home most of the time”, he continued, motioning to the two paintings. The collector crossed his arms over his chest in suspicion. “I never knew you had such an interest in art, Dreyar.”

“I don't, really. I just happen to find these very pretty. I'm sure they would be in better hands in a more carefully stored selection”, Laxus said smoothly and the other man nodded in agreement. “Definitively. Let me double my offer. I wouldn't want you to part with them for less than you bought them for.”

“I can live with that. I'm gonna miss these five kittens, though”, the blonde said, holding his hand out toward the other. The black haired man took it in a firm shake. “They will be in a better place.” “I will trust in that”, Laxus nodded. They let go again and the deal was made. Bickslow looked after the collector as he walked on to the next discussion before finally meeting the orange eyes of his neighbour.

“They're not even yours”, he said and Laxus shrugged a little. “I thought you might be so kind as to sell them to me.” “For two million?”, Bickslow asked and he smirked, “You're not gonna let me get away with any winnings for making this happen?” Taking a sip of his drink, the blonde gave him a small wink.

“Why should I pay someone I didn't hire?”, the artist asked jokingly and he huffed a little in amusement. “Harsh.”

“Seriously, though, I want to gift it to you. That way I can pay you back a little”, Bickslow told him and he shook his head at once. “I was just teasing, you goof. I will pay you full for them. You deserve it. Besides, it will look better on paper.”

Bickslow wouldn't even have made that much on this painting hadn't the blonde stepped in to raise the price. In fact, he wouldn't even be standing here to have any sales conversation with the collector to begin with hadn't Laxus taken him here. He would be in some shitty little apartment, heart broken because he would have had to dump his cats.

“It is really not worth that much”, he tried, but the businessman wouldn't have it. “An item is worth what its purchaser will pay for it. From now on, 'home' is worth exactly that much.”

Laxus patted him on the shoulder teasingly. “Golat a little. I'm not used to see you being so timid.” “Oh fuck off”, Bickslow hissed and the blonde gave a genuine smile, a real snigger.

Once the word got around that his two paintings had sold, even the other tree found interested parties. This time around Bickslow was on his own with setting the prices, but with the base line drawn at a million for one painting, he didn't have much to complain about. It was hard for him to even process that this was happening.

After every dismissal and rejection, people actually liked his paintings and their cute little stories. It was an incredible feeling to finally have his art appreciated as just that and not put aside as immature nonsense.

When they finally left the venue and Laxus started the car to get them home, Bickslow sunk back in the car seat with a tired exhale. “Phew, I'm exhausted.” “Welcome to high society”, the blonde teased and he huffed a laugh.

Laxus looked back at him and quietly said, “I'll let you in on a secret.” “And what is that?”, the artist asked intrigued. He could tell this was going to be some kind of mischief. The businessman only ever had this happy shine in his eyes when they were fooling around.

“This is actually not my type of crowd”, Laxus almost whispered. “Really?”, Bickslow asked sarcastically, making an utterly scandalised face.

“I thought that today was the day that I for the first time saw a genuine smile on your lips”, he continued dramatically. “I know it may seem so, but it is all an act”, Laxus told him seriously.

They looked back at another in tense silence until it became impossible to hold their poker faces any longer and they both broke down in laughter.

 


	11. Saving Me

“Would you like a check or do you wanna give me your account number?”

Bickslow looked up from his current painting project and turned around to the blonde standing in the door. “What?”, he asked and Laxus smiled a little. It was cute how completely immersed the artist became whenever he had a pen or pencil in hand. He hadn't even noticed the businessman standing there for the past five minutes, watching him dot colour onto the canvas with care.

“The paintings”, Laxus explained and he finally seemed to follow again. “Oh. I really just want to give 'home' to you”, the black and blue haired man stated, gaining a deep sigh. “I thought we already had this conversation.”

Bickslow washed his pencil out and set it aside. “I'm serious. This way I can pay you back a little. If the others really buy the other three paintings, I will have more than enough to get back on my feet, but I haven't given you anything back for letting me stay here.”

Laxus shook his head. Did the other really not see just how much he had already given back? Cooking every day and even adapting to the blonde's taste as he learned what the business man liked and disliked. No one had asked him to, but he really gave it his best.

He had given back so much, fooling around and playing along with his neighbour. It was great how he always found a stingy response and never lost his temper when Laxus teased him. And he had actually accompanied the businessman to that boring as fuck venue.

Laxus never liked those occasions, but with Bickslow, it hadn’t been half bad. Everything wasn't half bad when he was around. In fact, Laxus hadn't had this much fun in ages. Ever since that cat-maniac had moved in, he could smile again.

“Then buy me dinner instead”, he stated and Bickslow looked back at him bewildered. “Dinner?”

“Yea. I wanna go to dinner at the finest restaurant in town. It's boring to go alone, so I want you to take me. Now give me your account number so I can make sure you can afford it”, Laxus stated and the artist finally gave in. “Geh. Fine. You win.”

After Laxus had transferred the founds and officially bought the paintings, he handed the black and blue haired man the number to '8 Island', one of the most high class restaurants the area. If he was the one taking Laxus out, he should according to the blonde also be the one making the reservations. “Any time after eight so we have time to drive up. It's in Magnolia Town”, he simply said before leaving the artist to it.

Bickslow shook his head as he watched the businessman walk back down the stairs. Hanging the by now very colourful apron aside and washing his hands, he made the reservations for this very evening. It was a Sunday after all. What better day could there be for a date?

Not that he thought this to be a date!

At least not that kind of date.

Nope.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he told his neighbour he had gotten a table and as the hour drew near showered and once more changed into the fine black suit. That was another thing he had really wanted to pay the businessman back for, but Laxus just wouldn't have it. He was stubborn as a mule sometimes.

The blonde drove them over to the hills where the fine restaurant stood, leaning out toward the grand lake the town resided along. The building was timeless and elegant, a huge glass front allowing a breathtaking view over Sciliora from the dining hall, and the furniture all in finest rosewood.

Stepping through the door, Bickslow again found himself just a tiny bit overwhelmed. “Wow. Isn't this place...”, he began and Laxus chuckled in amusement. “A bit pricey? Yea, a tiny bit”, he finished the sentence teasingly.

The artist turned to him with an irritated frown. “Excuse me for not being used to it.” “Its okay”, Laxus told him, keeping a perfectly straight face. “Fuck you”, Bickslow hissed and he huffed a laugh.

“You're too cute sometimes”, he teased and the artist averted his eyes. He couldn't remember anyone ever calling him cute, but he really did not want to blush at this bastard's tease.

Focusing on the host instead, he gained a small smile. The man obviously found the scene very entering, but was far too professional to let that show as he greeted his guests. Getting the artist's name, he seated them in the back of the restaurant.

“That's what you get for booking so late”, Laxus chuckled and Bickslow gave a tired sigh. “Okay, you've had your fun. I'm not as refined as you, we all get it”, he hissed and the blonde raised an eyebrow in surprise. Had he actually managed to offend his neighbour for the first time?

“Sorry”, he mumbled and the black and blue haired man shook his head a little. “It's fine. I just... I guess I don't feel quite at home here and you are the only thing that anchors me to this odd... luxurious world. So help me out instead of teasing, please”, he explained himself. Laxus nodded and the artist cleared his throat, looking at the menu instead.

Once they had ordered, he didn't really have anything to occupy himself with any more and the silence between them grew increasingly awkward.

“You look good”, Laxus said and he stared back at the blonde, sure that his blush was visible this time. The businessman seemed as calm as ever, watching him through those calculating orange eyes. “Thanks”, the artist responded.

“As do you”, he added.

Hell, Laxus always looked amazing, no matter if he sat in bespoke suit and fine accessories or a pair of cheap tracksuit bottoms and messy bed hair. It was just him that was good looking, not the attire he happened to wear.

The rest of dinner went by almost as usual. There were three notable differences to when they ate at home. One was that the cats weren't interrupting, sitting at their feet and silently begging for pieces they never got any way. Another was that they were eating with a little more grace, paying attention to their manners here. And the last was that the blonde didn't comment much on the taste.

“Almost makes me think you don't like it”, Bickslow chuckled and he just shrugged a little. “I just appreciate your cooking in a different way”, he defended. He had been a bit surprised how good Bickslow was at cooking the first time around. After that, he just wanted to see that cute tiny blush on the man's cheeks again.

“Well, you might just have to cook on your own again soon. With the revenue from my paintings, I should be able to get my own place again. Guess we won't be neighbours any more. I doubt the people now living in that house will want to move again that soon”, Bickslow smiled happily.

At that, the businessman stopped. He hadn't even thought of the day the artist would move out again. It had taken so little time for them to find their rhythm, living together like this in their own version of harmony. And, truth be told, he didn't want the other to leave. The house was now filled with life and it would feel awfully quiet and lonely without that.

“It's not like you have to move at once, if your don't want to”, he hinted lightly. It was highly uncomfortable to have to say it, so he tried beating around the bush instead, hoping the other would pick up on what he really meant. That didn't seem to go quite his way, though.

“I've been a nuisance to you for long enough. You really saved me”, Bickslow waved it off.

“Really, it's you that has saved me”, Laxus said, realising first after the words had left his mouth how embarrassing they sounded. “What are you talking about?”, the artist asked in slight confusion and he gave a forced smile. “Its hard to explain.” “Try”, Bickslow encouraged calmly.

He hadn't gotten any hint at all so far it seemed, looking back at the blonde with that adorable inquisitive air about him, his dark red eyes focused on the other and his head tilted ever so little to the right.

It wasn't really hard to explain at all. All it required were a few small words, but for some reason those very words seemed so tremendously difficult to say to this particular man, this insufferable, mischievous, beautiful and wonderful artist.

“Look, I... I'm not exactly what one would refer to as a sociable man”, Laxus began, but he was cut off by a snigger. “Really? I thought you growling at me about wanting to murder my cats was very sociable”, the artist mocked and he clicked his tongue in irritation. Fair enough, he had earned that one, but he was trying to say something important here!

“Sorry, but I couldn't not take that opportunity. Please continue”, Bickslow chuckled happily. His smile really was contagious. It was worse than any flu.

Taking a deep breath, Laxus tried again. “I don't often let people in. Not into my personal life and sure as hell not my home. But you... I didn't mind it. I mean...” He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “What I'm trying to say is that I really enjoy having you around.”

“I'll make sure to visit often then”, the artist nodded and he shook his head. This wasn't going his way at all. How could such a smart guy be so fucking dense?! “No, that's not... gah, damit all!”, he growled. Bickslow tensed at the other's sudden irritation. “Laxus?”

Laxus leaned over the table, took a hold of the artist's collar and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to the man's lips.

As he pulled back a little, the dark red eyes were wide in shocked bewilderment. Slowly, they searched his face. The acrobat lifted one hand, tracing a finger over his lips as he finally met the orange eyes again. “Sorry”, Laxus sighed, letting go again.

He was about to formulate a proper excuse for his sudden attack, the utterly inappropriate way he had tugged the other close in public and the inexcusably bad confession when the artist took his hand, coaxing him back into the kiss again.

“Don't you dare be sorry for this”, he murmured quietly and Laxus smiled brightly. “I'll admit, I'm not really.”

When Bickslow let go and he sat back, he noticed almost the entire restaurant staring at them. Glaring back at no one in particular, he got them to turn back to their own conversations and the artist let out an amused giggle. Never had he seen Laxus Dreyar loose his cool before. It was very charming.

Laxus looked back at him with a sly smile.

“Lets get out of here.”

 


	12. Deal

That their innocent dinner plans would end with them standing in the hallway, kissing like teenagers in heat, neither of them would have guessed. Yet here they were, clinging on and trying to get just a little closer, a little more.

The ride back had been torturous. Laxus had a hard time focusing with the artist sitting beside him in the car, those dark red eyes never leaving him, that adorable face so happy, and that just because he had finally dared to kiss the man.

He was not the type to sit silent when he liked another, but this was the first time a friendship had developed into more this way. He had been just a tiny bit scared, afraid that Bickslow might not feel the same, might not find it flattering, and that this could ruin everything, but when the artist spoke of moving out again, he had to take the risk.

He didn't want to loose this feeling of belonging, this sense of home. The two of them and the five cats, it felt just right. This was were he belonged, he knew it was.

As soon as they had gotten through the door and toed their shoes off had he grabbed a hold of the artist. Pulling the black and blue haired man tightly against himself, he had started this, needing to taste the soft lips again. But no amount of kissing seemed to satisfy his lust.

Bickslow's heavy breaths against his skin were invigorating. He pushed the black and blue haired man back until he stood with his back against the wall. Pressing himself against that slender body longingly, he effectively trapped the other.

The artist sure didn't complain. On the contrary, he was arching back against the blonde, yearning for more of him, all of him. His hands found their way to the man's hair, nimble fingers running through the short blond strands lovingly.

Laxus found the button of the other's suit jacket and opened it, tugging the white shirt up to run his hands under it. He almost growled with need as he felt the hot skin under his fingers. Ever since he had seen the man come out of the shower that one time had he fantasised about this. His skin was just as smooth as it looked, ridiculously perfect.

Slipping his tongue past the artist's lips, he took full control over their heated making out. Almost of their own accord, his hands travelled downward again, now finding the other's crotch and retracing the man's erection through his trousers. Bickslow's head snapped up in a gasp.

“Laxus.”

He picked up on the waver in the artist's voice at once. Noticing the other man's shoulders were suddenly tense, his hands retreating again, Laxus leaned back. Bickslow was blushing now and it only made him even prettier. Stroking a hand over the man's warm cheeks, Laxus softly wondered, “Aright?”

The black and blue haired man shifted a little. “I just... I've never really... you know.” “You've never had sex?”, the businessman asked and Bickslow shook his head a little. Laxus had to admit, this surprised him a lot. The artist was beautiful, funny, charming. How had he not gotten laid before? Perhaps it was by choice.

“But you want to?”, he asked, to make sure he hadn't misread, that he wasn't urging the other to anything he didn't want. He could wait if he needed to. “I do. Just, slow down. I don't want this to be a quickie”, Bickslow said and a smile spread over his lips. “Got ya.”

Stepping away from the artist, Laxus instead took his hand and led him across the living room. Walking up the stairs, he headed for his bedroom, but the other stopped. Turning around, Laxus was about to ask if he had missed something, but Bickslow smiled, “My room.”

“Okay”, Laxus agreed. “Any particular reason?”, he wondered as they headed for the other side of the house instead. Bickslow just shrugged and he nodded a little. He didn't need to understand it to respect it. It wasn't like he had any particular preference besides knowing where condoms and lube could be found by his own bed.

Even with most of the artist's possessions still lying stacked in boxes, Laxus's home having all the kitchen supplies, towels and beddings one could possibly need, the guest room was hardly recognisable any more. He had truly made it his own in the time he had been staying in the modern house, one of his paintings hanging over the bed, his books all around, his clothes hanging over a chair, and of course, his cats sleeping on the bed.

Walking over to the double bed, Laxus picked the two felines currently resting there up. “You guys are out”, he stated mater of factly as he carried them away. Dropping them in the hallway, he closed the door and turned back around to the mockery of his neighbour. “Don't like audience?” “Tsk”, was the only response Bickslow got and he sniggered a little.

When Laxus took a step forward, he took one back. “One sek. I wanna freshen up”, he excused himself, escaping into the bathroom. He locked the door behind himself and took a deep breath. This was happening. He was exited, a little nervous, and smiling over both ears.

Laxus had an idea in the meantime. He quietly left the room to find the needed supplies. Setting up, he stood beside the bed awkwardly for a moment before deciding that he might as well and lying down on in it, his head propped up on one hand in an almost painfully cliché pose for this situation.

When Bickslow stepped out of the bathroom, he stopped dead. A scene out of a romantic film was unfolding before him. Laxus smiled back at him from the bed innocently. He had drawn the curtains and turned the lights off, instead placing candles around the room. The living lights were flickering lightly, spreading a warm and calm aura around them.

“Candles, really?”, the artist asked amused and the blonde shrugged, “I wanted to make it special.” To think he had ever considered this man to be gruff and uncharming. “You forgot the rose pedals”, he teased. “Believe me, they would just stick to your back”, Laxus joked back and he laughed.

“Speaking from experience?”, he wondered. “Maybe”, the blonde smirked and he raised an eyebrow at the businessman. “You spread rose pedals on a bed for someone?”, he asked sceptically. “Is that so hard to believe?”, Laxus returned the question and Bickslow chuckled again.

“Looking around me now, I guess not”, he stated, motioning at the romantic gesture the other had pulled out of his sleeve within but a few minutes.

Laxus lifted a hand and coaxed him closer. Smiling, Bickslow crossed the room. He climbed onto the bed beside the blonde and was softly drawn into a kiss. The businessman was listening to him now, following his lead and going just as slowly or quickly as he wanted.

Bickslow pushed Laxus to lie on his back and then slipped a leg across the man's, straddling his waist. Running his hands up the fine cloth, he started unbuttoning the perfectly fitted shirt, exposing the blonde's upper body. He looked over the tattoo again, now for the first time reaching out and retracing it.

“It's pretty”, he commented and Laxus smiled up at him. The businessman reached up and ran a finger over his nose. “As is yours. Very cocky.” Bickslow stuck his tongue out at the blonde and the orange eyes went wide in surprise. Across the pink membrane a black figure had been inked. Sitting up a little, he got a closer look before deciding, “That's strangely hot.” The artist huffed a laugh at that. “You think?”

Nodding, Laxus pulled him into another kiss before allowing the artist to push him back down and continue what he had started. Lowering his head, Bickslow trailed kisses down the blonde's neck and collarbone before softly retracing the swirling tattoo with his lips.

The soft caress left Laxus restive, but he restrained himself. He was usually a lot more feverish and hurried, but the way the artist explored his body made him feel so much more connected. He was stripped and exposed, but caught gently again by the skilled hands working their way downward. It was intimate beyond what he had experienced before.

By the time Bickslow unbuttoned his trousers, he was sure he was blushing in turn. The artist tugged his clothes down just far enough to free him before one slender hand wrapped around him and he huffed in pleasure.

After that, it was all a heated mess. Laxus reached for the other's trousers in turn and between moans and gasped breaths, their kisses grew increasingly sloppy before it was over.

The artist lay atop him in content relaxation, those enchanting dark red eyes just looking up at him calmly. They were both a bit sticky now, but Laxus didn't mind. He made a mental note to bring their clothes to the dry cleaner before turning to the side to have the artist beside himself, pressed up against him warmly.

“Seems we were quite quick after all”, he joked.

Bickslow smiled at that. Of course they would be. It was their first night together. What more could one expect? “Yea, but it was very romantic”, he said, stroking through the short blond strands.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was to land a gentleman like Laxus. The blonde might have a hard shell, but he was an adorable teddy bear on the inside. Bickslow felt safe in these strong arms, at home in this man's embrace.

“So... You're not still moving out, are you?”, Laxus asked quietly, pressing his nose against the artist's cheek. “No. You're stuck with me and my babies now.”

“I suppose I can live with the balls of fur as long as they don't get more attention than I do”, the blonde joked. Mischief sparkled in the dark red eyes once more at those words. “I can't promise that”, Bickslow teased.

Laxus smirked and grabbed a hold of the black and blue haired man. Holding him down, he tickled the artist. Bickslow fought against it, trashing under him, but there was no escaping the buff businessman. “Mercy! Have mercy on me!”, Bickslow laughed. When the blonde finally stopped, he caught his breath and relaxed back. “Mean”, he pouted and Laxus leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I get at least sixty percent of the attention”, he stated. “Best I can do is forty”, Bickslow haggled, crossing his arms over his chest. “That is way too little”, the businessman pouted. “Fifty, my last offer”, the artist said sternly. He met the orange eyes head on.

Laxus smiled. To think he would find someone with the same odd sense of humour as him. And it was literally the guy next door. This was all just way too perfect.

“Deal.”

 


End file.
